


We Toast to the Apocalypse

by WizardGerard



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Bullets Era, F/M, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 17:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14242329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardGerard/pseuds/WizardGerard
Summary: A fic about that one house party fight. You know the one.





	We Toast to the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> [For the unenlightened.](http://youtu.be/IXMqkARXaDQ) This fic is loosely based on this fight. Very loosely.
> 
> Thank you to [ redbranch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/redbranch/pseuds/redbranch) for beta-ing!!!

Frank hadn’t been this drunk in a while. Like, a week, at least. He was being obnoxious, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He draped himself across the laps of his friends and a few people he didn’t know, and allowed himself to be carted around by whomever had assumed responsibility for him at that moment. He was happy, floating, dreamy, and dazed.

He was vaguely aware that he was outside. Mikey, he knew for sure, was inside hamming it up with Gabe Saporta. Gerard was underneath him, it seemed, as his leg was draped over Gerard’s shoulder. How did Gerard get on the ground? He didn’t care. He patted Gerard’s head affectionately, which was sporting the dumbest pageboy hat Frank thought he had ever seen, his awareness slipping in and out of the conversation. Jamia was beside him at one point, and she said something, but it didn’t register. He just smiled sweetly at her and rubbed his head against her neck. 

On the outside of Frank’s alcohol-induced haze, the party was blazing on. No one knew whose house they were at, and they didn’t know half the people there, but there was free alcohol so no one turned down the invite.

“You think he’s alright?” Ray asked, eyeing Frank’s swaying form warily. “He looks kinda zoned out. Glass-eyed and shit.”

“He’s alright,” Worm said, lighting up a cigarette and waving a dismissive hand in Frank’s direction. “He’s in a good place.”

Gerard hummed, patting Frank’s leg thrown over his shoulder and resting his head against it. “Yeah, we’re good, we’re all good. Right? We’re alright.”

“You both need to be cut off soon, I think,” Jamia said.

“Cut off?!” Frank said, having tuned into the conversation at that second. “Cut off from what? Alcohol? Nah, we’re good! G said. We’re good, chill, great, so good, we’re--”

“I know, you’re good. I think you’re about at the point where one more drink would tip you over into ‘bad,’ so let’s cap it off for tonight,” Jamia said, kissing Frank’s cheek. Her tone was light, but her words were final, Frank knew.

He pouted and let his head hang. “Okay…”

“Good. We should probably head out soon, too. You guys have a meeting with Eyeball tomorrow about your move to Reprise. What time--”

“Who’s that fucking fag on the ground! Get up! M’gonna knock his fucking lights out--get the fuck up!”

Frank furrowed his eyebrows and looked around for the source of the anger. Who was trying to kill their vibe? There were so many people, inside the house and outside on the lawn, that it was hard to tell. But the source made itself apparent when Frank saw a shirtless guy flailing his arms and headed right for them.

“Whoa, what the fuck?” Frank stepped off of Gerard and hauled him to his feet. Drunk off his ass or not, Frank was aware this dude was looking for someone to fight. And he had chosen Gerard.

“Yeah that’s right. Get your pixie ass up! I saw your dumb ass at the show, you fucking faggot. No one wants to see you hanging all over your fucking boyfriend,” the guy yelled, advancing on them. The crowd had taken notice by now, and the guy’s friends were following in behind him.

“Hey, if you’re looking for a fight, I’ll take you. Step off, man,” Worm said, attempting to insert himself between the angry dude and Gerard.

“Fuck you, I want this fuckin’ homo!” Angry Guy said, and before anyone could stop him he was lunging forward and taking a swing at Gerard. His fist made contact with Gerard’s jaw, and chaos erupted. Everyone made a move for Gerard, either to fight or protect him, and people outside of the tiny circle that had formed were yelling and shouting either their approval or their displeasure.

Anger exploded in Frank’s chest. Adrenaline coursed through him so suddenly he felt his hands start to shake, his stomach turning, vision whiting out at the edges. He focused in on Angry Guy and made a lunge for him as the dude’s crew dogpiled on top of Gerard. Frank thrashed and punched every person he could get his hands on. There was a sharp pain in his face but it only lasted for a second, and he had finally gotten ahold of someone. He wasn’t about to let go.

He was acutely aware, now, of the chaos around him - Jamia was pushing people away from the pile, Ray was attempting to dig Gerard out from under all the guys, and Worm was grabbing at the heart of the fight, trying to get attention off of Gerard. He couldn’t even see the guy he was punching, but he hoped it was the shirtless guy. 

Frank felt himself being hauled upright as the pile disbanded. Gerard was scrambling to his feet, and he looked relatively unharmed save for a bloody lip and what Frank knew was going to be a black eye and bruised jaw. There were still people fighting around them, but Worm was standing beside Gerard, a protective arm around his shoulders.

Anger swelled up in Frank again and he struggled to escape the grasp of whoever was holding him. “Lemme at this fuck! Where the fuck did he go!” he growled, dragging his captor across the lawn on pure adrenaline, arms swinging recklessly. He spotted Angry Guy across the street shouting profanities at them, arms spread out, welcoming a challenge. How did he get over there so fast?

“Frank, cut it out! Let it go, it’s over, Gerard’s good!” came Ray’s voice in his ear.

Frank growled and tried pushing Ray’s arms away from his waist to no avail. “Get off me, Toro. I’m gonna fuck this guy up!”

“Frank,” Jamia’s calm voice spoke from beside him. “Stop.” Frank was still seething, his breath heavy, but his vision was getting less tunnel-y, and Ray released him as Jamia placed a hand on his arm. “He’s alright. Just go see him.”

The guy was still yelling, but now his friends were trying to pull him away from the scene and into a car. Good riddance. Frank grumbled and stomped over to Worm and Gerard and found Mikey there as well, fussing over his brother.

“Mikes, I’m good! Really, I promise,” Gerard was saying, batting Mikey’s hands away.

“Jesus, what even happened? Why did he wanna fight you?” Mikey fretted.

“Because he’s a homophobic asshole that went to the concert and didn’t like what he saw, I guess. Gerard didn’t even do anything that flamboyant tonight. I don’t get it,” Frank answered for him, swatting Mikey away and holding Gerard’s face in his hands. The initial adrenaline was wearing off and now Frank just felt sick; his hands were shaking, and his heart was still pounding. Nothing like a good fight to sober him the fuck up. “You’re good?”

Gerard nodded and placed one hand over Frank’s on his cheek. “It hurt like hell, but I’m okay. You’re bleeding though,” Gerard said, furrowing his brow and touching Frank’s upper lip. His finger came back red and wet, and Frank hadn’t realized his nose was bleeding.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m fine.” Frank brushed his thumb lightly over Gerard’s bottom lip, which was swollen and cut, and Gerard winced. “Sorry. Let’s go. We gotta get you cleaned up.”

They ended up going back to Jamia’s place, as it was the closest and Jamia was the designated driver. Otter, whom Frank had not seen since they left the stage that night, had evidently opted to stay at the party and crash with Saporta, according to Mikey. Fine with Frank. It was squished enough in the car as it was with Jamia driving, Worm in the passenger seat, and Frank, Ray, Gerard, and Mikey all tangled up in each other in the back seat.

They arrived a short while later and Frank was feeling the effects of the fight. Yeah, his nose actually hurt like hell. Nothing he couldn’t handle though, and it wasn’t broken. They filed inside, and Ray and Mikey flopped on the couch, visibly exhausted. Worm fussed over Gerard and sat him at the dining table as Jamia pulled an ice pack out of the freezer.

Frank got a dish rag and wet it as Gerard pressed the ice pack to his jaw. He sat in the chair next to him and turned to dab gently at his lip. Gerard grimaced but remained still as Frank wiped the blood off his lip. 

“You should use that on yourself first,” Gerard muttered, eyes fixated on the dried blood under Frank’s nose.

Frank hummed and quickly swiped at his nose with the rag, then set it down on the table. He pulled Gerard’s stupid pageboy hat off his head and smoothed his hair out of his face.

“Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay,” Worm said, yawning and stretching. Ray and Mikey grunted their agreement, already practically asleep on top of each other on the couch.

“Good idea. Frank, I’m gonna head to bed. Come up when you’re ready,” Jamia said, kissing both Frank and Gerard’s cheeks, ruffling their hair, and heading to her room. Worm was going to sleep in the spare bedroom, and Frank supposed Gerard could go sleep with Worm, but he kind of wanted to keep Gerard close.

He sighed and leaned forward to peck Gerard’s lips. “I got so fucking mad. I can’t believe… God, that guy was an asshole.”

Gerard smiled a bit. “I saw. I mean, you dragged Ray’s ass clear across the lawn. I’ve got a killer story now though and probably a couple sick bruises for tomorrow. How punk rock is that?”

Frank laughed and kissed Gerard again, gently, so as not to hurt his lip. “Thought you didn’t subscribe to all that macho shit? Fights and bruises and all that.”

“I don’t! I mean obviously I don’t, or else I could have taken that guy. I’m just thinking about the aesthetics of it.”

“Of course you are.” Frank rolled his eyes and cupped Gerard’s face in his hands. “You tired? Wanna go to bed?”

Gerard shook his head a bit. “Adrenaline’s still going, I’m kinda hyped up. You wanna go have a smoke?”

Frank nodded, and they stood and walked out on the porch, settling into the porch swing. “I’m still pretty hyped, too. Kinda shaky feeling, still pretty drunk,” he said as his lit up a cigarette. He inhaled and sighed out the smoke, relaxing into the swing and handing Gerard the cigarette.

Gerard just hummed and took a drag. He pushed them back and forth leisurely on the swing with one leg, the other tucked up under him. “Fucking crazy ass party, I don’t even know whose house that was.”

Frank shrugged a bit and rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard rested his head on Frank’s and reached his hand down to lace their fingers together. Frank squeezed his hand gently. Gerard squeezed back. They shared the cigarette down to the filter in silence and Gerard tossed it on the porch, snubbing it out under his sneaker.

Frank lifted his head to look at Gerard - all soft curves, pale skin, dark eyelashes, now with a bruise blooming on his jawline. He leaned over and pressed his lips against it lightly, then nosed under his jaw and kissed down Gerard’s neck. Gerard turned more towards him and tilted his head to give him easier access. He squeezed Gerard’s hand again, kissed the hollow behind his ear, nuzzled contentedly against his soft neck.

The early autumn, late summer breeze blew over them and wind chimes jangled from the far corner of the porch. Frank was finally starting to relax, the adrenaline leaving him exhausted and heavy. He could stay in that moment forever: just the two of them on the porch swing, nothing to worry about except taking care of each other and maybe thinking about the meeting with Eyeball tomorrow about starting to record a new album and transitioning over to a new label. But they were ready for it. Their band was ready. How many people got to do what Frank was doing? He considered himself among the lucky few that actually got to live out their dream.

“You ever think about how lucky we are?” Gerard asked, his voice soft.

Frank giggled and leaned up to kiss him again. “I was just thinking about that, actually. Thinking about the meeting tomorrow.”

“Me too. I mean, shit sucks sometimes, but Jesus, Frank, we’re really lucky.” Gerard tilted Frank’s chin up and kissed him, a little more firmly this time.

Frank hummed his agreement and parted his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and allowing his tongue to slip into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard returned the favor, but kept the kiss slow and soft, his hand coming to cup Frank’s cheek.

Frank slid his hand down Gerard’s chest and figured, why not? They’d had a hard night. He wanted to end it on a good note. He let his hand rest flat against his crotch, rubbing gently and palming Gerard through his jeans.

Gerard moaned softly into his mouth and spread his legs a bit. Frank was probably too drunk and too tired to get off, himself, but he could at least make Gerard feel good. The chimes jingled softly again and reminded him - hey, you’re outside. He didn’t think it would matter though. It was approaching three in the morning, and Jamia didn’t live on a busy street. The porch swing covered most of their activity from the street anyway, he figured.

He could feel Gerard’s cock hardening through his jeans, and he squeezed it and stroked him through the cloth, slow and steady. “Frank, you’re not gonna make me cum in my pants, are you?” Gerard asked, breathless and giggly.

Frank hummed and nuzzled back into Gerard’s neck, mouthing at his collarbone. “Nah… I just like the sounds you make like this.” He trailed his fingertips up and down Gerard’s length, reveling in Gerard’s breathy moans. Frank unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans for him with one hand, palming at Gerard’s cock through his boxers.

“Fuck,” Gerard sighed, hips rocking up slowly as he slid down in his seat a bit. Frank rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder and pulled his cock out from his boxers, humming happily as he gave him lazy strokes, pulling his hand away only briefly to spit into it before getting back to business.

“I don’t think I can cum tonight, G, but I wanna make you feel good,” he said casually, twisting his hand up over the head of Gerard’s cock and stroking up and down his length.

Gerard nodded jerkily and whined. “O-Okay Frank, you uhh...got whiskey dick?”

Frank giggled and nodded, watching Gerard’s cock twitch at his touch. “Yeah I think so...like, m’hard but...you know what I mean? I just know.”

Gerard nodded his agreement and reached around to fist his hand in the back of Frank’s shirt, pushing down gently. Frank complied and leaned down to take him into his mouth, his own legs tucked up under him. He was rewarded with a too loud groan from Gerard, and Gerard clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his sounds.

Frank took it slow as he bobbed his head up and down, closing his eyes and humming around his cock. Gerard lifted his hips and squirmed a bit to push his jeans and boxers down further so they gathered at his knees, and he spread his legs as far as the jeans would allow. Frank had his hand on Gerard’s inner thigh, brushing his thumb against the skin lightly as he pulled up to the head to suck at it.

Gerard shuddered and rested his free hand on top of Frank’s head. Not pushing or grabbing, just resting, feeling the up and down motion. “Fuck, Frank, your fucking mouth,” he moaned, muffled through his hand.

Frank took him to the back of his throat and swallowed around him, easily taking him in. It was always easier when he was drunk, he found. Gerard groaned, and his fist tightened in Frank’s hair, his thighs starting to tense up. Frank hummed his encouragement and sped his pace, fingers stroking at Gerard’s thighs and balls, passing over them just to touch.

“Frankie,” Gerard whined, hand falling away from his mouth and gripping onto the seat beside him. His cock twitched in Frank’s mouth, and Frank pulled back to the head, licking at it and stroking his length with one hand. “Fuck, Frank, gonna -- ahh!” he moaned, inhaling sharply and cumming into Frank’s mouth, on his lips and chin.

Frank stroked him through it and licked him clean, swallowing and squeezing the head of his cock gently. He lapped at the tip, and Gerard whimpered and twitched beneath him, hips shifting and rocking up.

“Jesus, ffffuck,” Gerard sighed. He tugged Frank’s head back gently as Frank took one final lick. 

Frank patted Gerard’s thigh, silently asking him to lift up, and Gerard understood. Frank pulled his boxers and jeans up as best he could, carefully tucking Gerard back in. He lifted up and wiped his mouth on his shirt - he could just wash it, since they had access to laundry for once. He pulled Gerard in, kissed him deeply and swallowed his soft moans, running his hand down his chest and stomach, and back up. 

“You good, baby?” he asked once he pulled away. He rested his forehead against Gerard’s, who was panting softly, eyes closed.

Gerard nodded and licked his lips. “Yeah...so fucking good. God, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move.”

Frank pecked his lips a couple times and stroked his hair and cheek. “We’ll just sleep out here. I’ve done it before. It’s not as uncomfortable as you’d think. We can go in with Jamia later, if you want.”

“I’m down. At least, for a while. Just till I can walk again,” he said. He arranged the two of them to lay back on the swing, Frank situated between his legs, laying back on Gerard’s chest. Gerard’s arms wrapped around him, his hands folded across Frank’s chest. “Thanks, Frankie. You know, for everything tonight. Defending my honor and all.”

Frank relaxed into Gerard and closed his eyes. His fingers laced in with Gerard’s as his thumbs traced patterns over his warm palms. A small smile graced his lips and he nodded. “Of course, G. Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first fic I've posted publicly since I wrote Harry Potter fanfic when I was like 12, so thanks for reading!


End file.
